Bleach blonde hair and that tan you got from mowing lawns all summer.
In your Black muscle shirt and Crisp white jeans against leaning against the doorway.
Could've given Don Johnson a run for his money.
Still wearing your sunglasses inside. A future too bright to hide.
Thought you had it going on, little did I know your mind was already gone.
But you were still the first born, my big brother I thought was having all the fun.......until one day, like the prodigal son you came walking up the driveway, but there was no grace for you, only hell to pay. Seemed like we were just drawing pictures together of the sharks you caught off the coast of Pascagoula. They had some hope for you on that boat, until mom and dad found out you used all the money you made to buy dope. You blamed Capt. Big Red, you said he was such a cutthroat. All the while I was back home staring at your Dio record cover, thinking about my big badass brother.....and why it was you had to leave as I put Holy Diver back in its sleeve.
1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last,
1987 badass, I love you so stuck in the past
You hocked my cd player for some drugs on Decker drive
I should have been mad but I was glad you were still alive
Living in some abandoned house just down the street, dad wouldn't even let you in to get something to eat. Crawling back home through the window while we were all asleep, laying on that mattress on the laundry room floor. I could hear dad trying to push down the door yelling “don't come around here no more.” You didn't rest you didn't sleep, the voices kept you up all night and so did we...
They sent you down to the Keys to get yourself a job. Thought it'd straighten you out, give you a new start. Little did we know the hell that you went through. When that truckdriver brought you home, dad could have killed you. The beach was your home down there, sleeping on the sand in the naked night air. Trying to talk to you, no one knew what to do, there were no reasons for the things we all went through.
1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last.
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past
Driving down river road, taking pictures by the cemetary. The moments we both shared were never arbitrary. Looking for some magical power lines or plastic pink flamingos. Never stopped driving till we found our treasures, taken with us in a second in our cameras forever.
The first of every month going to the dollar store, looking for the perfect trinket to adorn your special room. You had it perfectly arranged so you could save us all from doom. Every object had its place, you said your art was your saving grace.
Hitchhiking for miles in the Louisiana heat, with your black trench coat still on as we pass you on the street. Coughing for another cigarette and I wrestle with the thoughts. Mom says you've had too many, or should I just give you what you want.
You pace, smoke and drink your coffee spilling it all over the floor. Mom yells again but you still try to get more. So we go outside and try to shoot the breeze. I try to understand you but your thoughts are out of reach. Sometimes I wish you could be more clear about the chaos in your head. There's nothing worse than a lost muse trying to raise the dead, or at least I thought that's what you said.
1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last.
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past
You got a bus ticket to Baytown, went looking for Doris your one true love. No one knew where you went, and you took all the money that was for last months rent. Mom was sick and we were all spent. Doris wasn't around, you called dad from a pay phone. Alone in the parking lot in front of the Safeway. Next to the neighborhood where we used to live and play. 20 years later, you're still holding on to the memory of a girl who's been long gone.
You got arrested for sleeping on a car. We never understood how you even got this far. And then those cops chased you through the woods after that doctor sent you down the line. They all said you were fine, no reason for you to stay in that hospital, you were free, and the same day you came home and started tearing the limbs off some tree while screaming obscenities at strangers and mom and me. The streets weren't very nice to you but you still made it through. Something always there to save you from yourself. It sure wasn't the ones in charge of your mental health.
So you finally got a new apartment from the state, mom so worried you'd get kicked out with your dumpsterdiving treasures and and cigarette butts thrown all about. Your doctorizing was very impressive. One time you made some butterflies out of bread, I think that's what you said. Your creative touch was something I envied so much, I always wanted to be like you even though I knew all the pain it cost you.
1987 Badass, dad said you'd never last
1987 Badass, I love you so stuck in the past
